


Graveyard

by DAgron01



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Canon Compliant and Canon Divergent because I like it both ways, Dark Harrowhark, Emotional Baggage, F/F, Harrow POV, Harrow needs a hug, Hurt/Comfort, angst but with a happy ending because I need it, lots of thoughts and feelings, retelling book 1 and beyond, spoilers obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22913287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DAgron01/pseuds/DAgron01
Summary: Harrow plays with bones and feels things. But she only admits to one of them.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Graveyard

Disclaimer: I own nothing. And yes, I used a bunch of quotes from the book which I obviously don't own. And I don't own Harrow or Gideon, though I wish I did. So instead, I simply dedicate the entirety of my life to protecting Harrow. That is all.

NOTE: This takes place the morning after Jeannemary dies and Gideon has been having nightmares and is feeling a lot of things.

Pretty much the last quarter of the book and beyond told through Harrow's POV, but with added scenes and my very own theory about the girl in the tomb just for fun.

  
  
  


_ It's crazy when _

_ The thing you love the most is the detriment _

_ Let that sink in _

_ You can think again _

_ When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and _

_ You're nothin' but skin _

xxxxx

  
  


I meticulously applied my face paint. My armor. A literal mask and, perhaps, the only thing protecting me and keeping my secrets. Hiding that I am but a scared and lost little girl. A vile puppeteer feared by all who know me. Tortured and conflicted. Alone. Lonely. Very lonely. The war crime who longingly seeks a fool's errand: redemption. As if such a word exists for such a sin as me. 

I watch Gideon out of the corner of my eye. She's made a mess, a mockery of our house as usual. But it doesn't gall me this time. I roll my eyes at her.

"Griddle, just get over here. Let me do it."

Surprisingly, she obeyed without retort.

As I busied myself with my task, I let myself notice things I denied myself before. 

Gideon's skin is soft, pleasant. Our heartbeats pump in tandem. Fast, steady but almost hauntingly perfect. We are so close now that we share a breath. I swallow as shakily as my fingers tremble just below her cheekbone, my eyes flash to hers and I swear I am laid bare before her.

I fear she sees me.  _ All _ of me. In all the ways I always kept hidden from her.

I don't realize I lick my lips until her eyes fall to trace the movement. And without her eyes exposing me so heinously, I find myself wishing that she'd break the tension the way she usually does. With a smirk. A lewd comment. An insult. Anything. Nothing.

I continue to trace the contours of her face with the black paint on my fingers. 

Her face paint is as much as a barrier between us as mine is. I wonder if she feels it too. The moment that we let ourselves really see each other. The moment I see her as anything other than Griddle. Other than my one companion. My only friend. The moment she realizes that she has always been everything to me.

The girl in the tomb. I haven't told her yet, what saved me. What made me live.  _ Who _ made me live. But again, it's always been her. And when I saw the girl... _ this  _ version of Gideon, whose face remains in my trembling hands, I didn't know what it meant; only that I desired to learn. I needed to stay alive long enough to meet her someday. To find a way to bring her back. And as we aged...and I realized it was Gideon. My Lady was my truest enemy...

My breath wavered and I dared myself to catch her eye again. But there wasn't hatred there this time. It was all-encompassing and some of it was anger, but it didn't appear to be aimed at me.

She frowned. "Is this all really necessary? They basically know I'm not who we said I was. For the most part...and I get that it's entirely...not even slightly my fault. Not really. You knew I'd suck at this. I can't be what you imagined. But do you really have to punish me with...this?" She waved her hands at my paint smeared fingers then smirked. "I mean, I can always think of better things you could do with your hands." Her eyes widened in horror. "Forget I said that." Her eyes closed. "Why am I still talking?"

"Because you've never learned the art of shutting up, Griddle." 

She smirked as she opened her eyes again. "I've been told I'm good with my mouth."

This time her eyes held mine.

"By who?" I hissed gently, or had meant to. I failed. Miserably.

Gideon winced and her shoulders sank as if accepting defeat.

I sighed and folded my black stained fingers into my lap.

"It's the tradition of our house Gideon. And I know you despise everything about the Ninth and about our ways, and about me. But tradition is all I have. And here, we can't control everything that is happening, but we can...we can control what face we put on. How much we want to reveal of ourselves...how much we want them to fear us so we aren't next. It isn't just some stupid tradition to me so I can pretend to be above them all. Which I am, and this stupid paint doesn't change that." She smirked again and I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying to keep us alive Griddle, the only way I know how."

And that starts with armor. Hiding who we are and what we are truly capable of. Me, the war crime. And Gideon, the girl who lived. 

She reached over and handed me more paint. I wordlessly continued my task. Being sure to keep a bit more distance this time as my mind warred with my soul.

Internally begging that she does not require more from me. Internally begging that she desires more of me.

"I don't hate everything, you know." She whispered quietly.

But we were alone in the room, and my hand stalled above her lips.

"I know. You quite love your trashy magazines. And making my life hell." I put as much nonchalance in my voice as I could muster.

She gently touched her hand to mine. "I meant, about you. And our home. I don't actually hate everything."

Her hand dropped away, and mine followed. I stood up abruptly and winced when I wiped the paint on my clothes.

"Geez, Griddle. That's some high praise coming from you."

I busied myself with cleaning up the mess as I made a show of giving her the once-over. "It'll have to do; with what little I had to work with."

She nodded thoughtfully. "That's some high praise, coming from you." 

Then she left the room and I felt more alone than I ever had. Gideon was the girl in the tomb. And I was so close to becoming a Lyctor. To have the power I needed to find out how. To have the answers I spent half my life searching for.

But suddenly, for the first time in ages, I didn't care about  _ that  _ Gideon. I cared about  _ this _ one. 

Because she didn't hate me. Not entirely. And if she could have some sense of tenderness left within her for a monster like me...maybe not all was lost. For either of us.

xxxxxx

_ You look at me (look at me) _

_ With eyes so dark, don't know how you even see _

_ You push right through me (push right through me) _

_ It's gettin' real _

_ You lock the door, you're drunk at the steering wheel _

_ And I can't conceal _

xxxxxxx

  
  


Leave it to a severed head in a closet to screw up all of our progress. I could blame it on Gideon for snooping. For not trusting me. On the fight we recently had. But I was the moron who hid the severed head in my closet. Talk about dampening the mood. I might as well have thrown us both into the deep end of the pool.

And we were almost in a good place, too. She even let me siphon from her again. Which I swore I would never do. But appearances had to be kept. People were watching. People were dying. I still resent myself for letting her goad me. For taking the bait. Using her. Hurting her. But I did it anyway. I keep doing it. 

It was torture, or may well have been, standing in the room with people who assumed I was the monster. Typically, they would have been right. And that irony was not lost on me. But knowing what Gideon thought me capable of. Seeing the doubt, the fear, the hatred in her eyes all over again. I was used to those looks from her, my entire life was filled with them. But this time she had been wrong about me, and it hurt me that I had to make that distinction. It wasn’t like I expected her to side with me, I withheld the truth from her long enough to guarantee that she wouldn’t. So then why does it feel like betrayal? 

I spared one last glance at her as she tenderly watched Septimus. Of course she would prefer Septimus and every other wretched person here. 

It isn't jealousy, despite what Gideon thinks. Envy sure. Envy, because they don't live with my crimes. Envy that they are free to simply  _ be.  _

That’s why it bothered me so much this time. Because Gideon  _ was _ capable of compassion. She d _ id _ have feelings. She cared. Just not for me. Never for me. And what I intended to do now may still not be enough to ever get her to see my side. To  _ trust  _ me. But how can I save us both if she doesn’t?

Her words still ring in my ears. " _ Harrow, I hate you. I never stopped hating you, and you will always hate me. Don't forget that. It's not like I ever can." _

Did she lie to me before, or was she lying to me now? Does she hate me? She has to. But she would never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself. That is the only truth I have ever known. And yet, here I am, considering...planning to give her all the ammunition she needs to end me.

I'll have the truth, one way or another. 

I sensed her following me and for that I was grateful. I knew Gideon had questions. I knew Gideon didn’t even know which questions to ask. But it was still something I owed her.

“Follow me.” I turned quietly to address Gideon and before Gideon could tell me to f _ uck myself  _ or _ go to hell,  _ I decided belatedly to tack on a gentle, “Please.”

That made Gideon follow the rest of the way in silence.

I led Gideon to the pool and provided us ample body guards. Then realized Gideon may finally choose to end me after all, at which point, the body guards would just get in the way. It was too late to think on that now, I needed to get a move on before I lost my nerve.

I steeled herself for this moment. My face is a mask of usual indifference. My eyes darkened with the gravity of what came next.

“The time has come.” I took a deep breath and let my robes fall from my shaky shoulders. “To tell you everything.”

“ _ Oh, thank God for that. _ ” Gideon exhaled as her voice nearly reached hysterics.

God. If Gideon was already this close to losing it, this was not going to end well for either of us.

“Shut up and get in the pool.”

Gideon surprised me by disrobing swiftly and basically cannonballing into the pool. I hid my smirk before Gideon surfaced and had already schooled my features back to their practiced stoicism. Then slowly glided into the pool, taking the time to submerge myself just for one last attempt at clearing my mind of anything but determination. When I emerged from the water and gasped for breath, it felt like all the preparation had been for naught.

“Are we in here for a reason?” Gideon broke the silence and I withhold the wince as her voice echoed off the walls.

I calmly explained the tradition of using the salt water pool to confess family secrets. Gideon blinked owlishly when I finished speaking and it was almost endearing. Except that we had a lot of ground to cover and Gideon wouldn’t stay so complacent for long.

“Oh shit. You really mean it. This is it. This is go time.”

I nodded in agreement. “This is go time.”

When Gideon ran her hands through her hair, I watched water trickle down her neck and drop further below than what had been visible to me. I almost missed Gideon’s quiet. “Why?”

So once again, I did my best to explain and failed epically.

“The  _ first day?” _

Now I was just getting annoyed. Yes, I had expected it to be hard. To be like every other beat down I had with Gideon. But I didn’t expect to be interrogated after every single reveal. Gideon truly was going to be the end of me. One way or another.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me when you killed him?” Gideon accused her with righteous anger and it pissed me off.

Actually, it hurt like hell that Gideon would have assumed I killed him to begin with. But beyond that, yeah, it fucking pissed me off.

“I didn’t kill him.” I told her sharply, then tried to lighten the tone to get through to the idiot.

Gideon moved away from me slightly, her posture rigid and her voice cold. “No, you monster’s ass. I mean, why didn’t you tell me you’d killed him before you sent Jeannemary Chatur and her necromancer down to the facility to look for the guy who was in a box in your closet? Why didn’t you take the moment to say, I don’t know,  _ Let’s not send two children downstairs to get fucked up by a huge bone creature. _ ”

I exhaled all my resentment and anger and felt deep pain for Gideon at that moment. Gideon was suffering because of me. Again. Because I chose incorrectly. Because I didn’t trust her. No, because I didn’t think Gideon would have trusted  _ me _ . And that was the crux of that matter wasn’t it? Gideon would always think of me as a monster. And perhaps, I’ve come to realize, I truly and completely was.

Yet, I felt compelled to explain. To spare Gideon her share of guilt for having failed to save Jeannemary. I tried my best to get Gideon to see that it wasn’t her fault. That Gideon wasn’t the one who failed them. And of course, Gideon still didn’t understand. She always needed to have things spelled out so succinctly for her.

“I had reason to believe that you would trust her more than you trusted me.” I hated to admit it, but there it was. And it was the truest thing I had said so far. The most cutting. Because Gideon’s lack of faith in me is what led to most of the issues that we’ve had. To some of the death’s, too.

Sadly, I watched as Gideon’s face contorted in pain. It was an anguish with which I was intimately familiar. I could understand that. I knew how to work with that.

“I thought you were compromised.” And I had at the time. Now, I know better.

I knew Gideon had always thought the worst of me. And I saw the way Gideon looked at Septimus. The way Septimus was able to break through Gideon’s walls. I loathed to admit the jealousy (okay, I was a little jealous some of the time) I felt when I saw them together, so easily, so unlike how things could ever be between myself and Gideon. I kept talking because I couldn’t stop trying to explain myself. Trying to get Gideon to just  _ see  _ things my way. Just for once.

“Harrow. If I hadn’t gone to Palamedes--and I nearly didn’t go to Palamedes--I would have waited for you in our rooms, with my sword drawn, and I would have gone for you. I was so convinced you were behind everything. That you’d killed Jeannemary and Isaac, Magnus and Abigail.”

“I didn’t--I don’t--I have never.” I tried to defend myself, but there was really nothing I could say. Gideon had her mind made up. I was the villain. And would always be so to her. “And--I know.”

“You would have killed me.” Gideon declared. 

“Or vice versa.”

Gideon didn’t have a response for that, for which I was grateful. Oh, the small victories. Lose what was left of the hope I always denied myself. But find a way to silence Gideon Nav. I wished I could have truly counted that as a win. 

When I forced myself to look at Gideon again, it wasn’t hatred or distrust that I saw in those yellow eyes anymore. It was something akin to amusement. Maybe excitement. I could scarcely understand the change, until Gideon spoke again.

“Okay. Question time. Who did all the murders?”

Oh, that’s what it was. It was a camaraderie. I had Gideon’s full attention and Gideon wanted to solve this thing. For them. For the others. Maybe to prove to herself that she wasn’t the fuck-up she had always been told she was. Either way, I could talk with  _ this _ Gideon. 

Although, I didn’t want her to know that I was elated to be talking about something else. Something less personal and painful.

“ _ Nav.”  _ I whined with faux annoyance.

But together the two of us went through the usual list of suspects. Of Possibilities and problematics. I almost let herself enjoy this time with Gideon. The equilibrium I had been worried to disturb before seemed to have reset itself. We had been basically, for the most part, pleasant for countless minutes without one of us upsetting or insulting the other. Or in the least, in a way that meant any actual harm. And that was a start.

But then Gideon had to go and ruin all of our progress with one single question.

“What do you know about the conditioner pathogen that bumped off all the kids--the one that happened when I was little, before you were born?”

The moment I dreaded for most of my life had finally arrived. And it was worse because it wasn’t some random houses finding out and condemning me, and my parents. It was Gideon. It was the one person that I both wanted to know everything and nothing at all. I wanted there to be no more secrets between us. I wanted Gideon to finally see me. But I was also terrified of what Gideon would see. 

I told her everything she wanted to know. Everything I had kept so hidden for so long. And watched as Gideon held her knees to her chest and let herself sink under the water. Processing. Condemning. 

Finally, when Gideon resurfaced and still remained silently judging me, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Say something.” It was a plea. For what, I wasn’t sure. 

“Gross. Ick. The worst. What can I say to that? What the  _ fuck  _ can I say to all  _ that?” _

I tried again. I needed Gideon to understand. I knew she would never understand, but let myself hope for it anyway.

“Why leave me, though?” Gideon demanded as her ire returned. “They murdered the rest of the House, but they left me off the list?”

And my heart shattered further with my final admittance. “We didn’t.”

I saw it in Gideon’s eyes, when I had truly and completely lost her. She would never understand. She wouldn’t give me the absolution that I desperately craved since I was a small child. Gideon may mean everything to me, but I understood at this moment that I would never be more than a monster to Gideon.

“You were meant to die, Griddle, along with the others.” I kept talking but could see that Gideon had stopped listening. Or maybe she just stopped caring about anything I had to say.

“And do you think you’re worth it?” Gideon asked with venom in a way that made me want to recoil. But I held my ground. I had nothing left to lose.

“If I became a Lyctor and renewed my House--and made it great again, and greater than it ever was, and justified its existence in the eyes of God the Emperor--if I made my whole life a monument to those who died to ensure that I would live and live powerfully...of course I wouldn’t be  _ worth it. _ ” I spoke with a scorn I didn’t realize I still possessed as someone who had succumbed to my fate long ago. “I’m an abomination. The whole universe ought to scream whenever my feet touch the ground. My parents committed a necromantic sin that we ought to have been torpedoed into the centre of Dominicus for. If any of the other Houses knew of what we’d done they would destroy us from orbit without a second’s thought. I am a  _ war crime.” _

And without meaning to, I continued. I wanted Gideon to know it all. I needed her to. Maybe the truth wouldn’t redeem me, but I noticed that Gideon no longer seemed terrified of me. No longer look pissed off. Or even appalled. Against my better judgement, I let hope rekindle its small flame in what was left of my soul. Because I did have a soul. You aren’t able to love someone if you don’t have one, and as I watched Gideon take it all in, I knew that without a doubt that what I felt for this idiot was love. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I was capable of it. I know that now.

Gideon nodded as she listened intently, then stood up as she asked another question that I was more than willing to answer. 

“Are you telling me that when you were ten years old-- _ ten years old-- _ you busted the lock on the tomb, broke into an ancient grave, and made your way past hideous old magic to look at a dead thing even though your parents told you it’d start the apocalypse?”

“Yes.” It was a simple answer to a very real, and very important question.

“Why?”

I looked away, down into the water, this was the moment of truth. Could I confess it all? I stared into Gideon’s eyes as I spoke.

“I was tired of being two hundred corpses. I was old enough to know how monstrous I was. I had decided to go and look at the tomb--and if I didn’t think it was worth it--to go up the stairs...all the flights of the Ninth House...open the air lock, and walk...and walk.”

I trailed off as I held Gideon’s gaze. Because it had been worth it. What I had seen had always been worth it. There was no doubt in my mind then, and my heart beat rapidly with the truth that it was even clearer now.

“But you came back.” Gideon seemed pained and I couldn’t understand why until she continued. “I told the Reverend Mother and the Reverend Father what I’d seen you do. I killed your parents.”

“What?  _ My parents  _ killed my parents. I should know.”

And I did know. I drove them to it and I was meant to follow. But the girl in the tomb. Gideon. All my reasons for wanting to live. They were right here and those eyes bore into my soul. Even as I was angry at myself, and now Gideon for even attempting to take the blame for this, I couldn’t help feeling regretful for so many things. I hated how I treated Gideon all these years. The reasons I didn’t dare to admit. Even fully now. Even though it mattered more than ever. Because how do you admit that you tried killing the only thing you ever loved? How every time Gideon tried to leave me...it reminded me of everything I could never have. Of all the ways I would never be worthy. Could never be deserving. So I became the thing I despised the most. I became the monster Gideon always assumed I was. And now what?

I stopped arguing, stopped explaining and just stared at Gideon as she stuttered out words that shattered what was left of my composure.

“Harrow, I’m so bloody sorry.”

The pieces of my heart seared together as all the air left my lungs. Gideon cared. She still cared. And yet. And yet? My eyes snapped open and I lunged toward Gideon grabbing her wet shirt in my fists and shook her with everything I had. I was livid. But the hatred was not directed at Gideon, could never be. Not after today. Not after what I finally allowed myself to admit. 

“ _ You  _ apologize to  _ me?” _

I hated herself for what I had done. The shared torment at my hands. The self-hatred disguised as indifference, as dignity, as anything but what it truly had been. 

“I have spent your life trying to make you regret that you weren’t dead, all because--I regretted I wasn’t! I ate you alive, and you have the temerity to tell me that  _ you’re sorry!” _

I wanted to say more. I should have confessed my love because I had nothing else left to lose in that moment. But I couldn’t admit in the same breath that I tortured Gideon because I hated that I loved her even more than I hated myself. Because that had been the truth of it. Wanting what I can’t have. What I don’t deserve. But here we were. And Gideon, who was being shaken senseless and yelled at mercilessly, still did not show me a bit of hatred as her eyes continued to bore into mine.

I found herself retching for air as I continued my tyrade. “Strike me down. You’ve won. I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”

There, I as much as admitted it. If Gideon was truly listening, she’d know. There were no further secrets left between us now. As Gideon grabbed me and dragged us under water, I submitted. There was nothing left to fear. In the worst way, I got everything I deserved wrapped in everything I ever wanted.

It was the best possible way for me to go out of this world. At the hands of the only person in the universe who truly knows me. But just as I let herself be swept up in the intensity of that emotion, I realized she wasn’t drowning me...she was hugging.  _ God damnit, Griddle. _

I thrashed at Gideon and fought  _ against _ living for the first time since I had made the conscious choice to live. Gideon did not release me. She held tightly until finally I gave in. And when I felt Gideon’s lips on the crease between my wet and furrowed brows, I realized that living felt sublime. My eyes widened as I moaned out in acceptance of that offering. Gideon had the decency to not smirk at my mistake.

“Too many words. How about these:  _ One flesh, one end,  _ bitch.”

I couldn’t hide my embarrassment if I wanted to, although I realized that I no longer wanted to. Gideon’s eyes met mine and something unfamiliar shined in them this time.

“Say it, loser.” She told me.

“One flesh--one end.” I stuttered the words that meant everything to my House. To me. _ To us _ .

I let her hold me, because I was no longer willing to fight against what I finally allowed myself to feel.

“Gideon, you need to promise me something.”

I hadn’t realized my mistake in using her proper name until she called me out on it. But I didn’t even feel the need to argue against using it. I had taken to using it in my head for nearly a month now, but it felt even better slipping off my tongue as I said it aloud. So I would continue to say it again whenever I’m given the chance.

“In the event of my death---Gideon, if something ever does get the better of me--I need you to outlast me. I need you to go back to the Ninth House and protect the Locked Tomb. If I die, I need your duty not to die with me.”

“That is such a dick move.”

“I know.” And I repeated it, because I did now. But I also knew that life wasn’t worth living at all without Gideon in it. And to know that she was out there. Somewhere in the universe. To guarantee that she would outlive me. I just needed her to understand the importance of it. 

“Harrow, what the hell is in there, that you’d ask that of me?”

You. It’s you. 

It probably would have been easier to just admit the whole truth at this point. But I had only just begun to dare to hope for more. For something for myself. For this.

“There’s a girl.”

“A  _ what?” _

“A girl, you yellow-eyed moron.” I couldn’t meet her gaze, and my voice barely registered above a whisper. I didn’t realize how embarrassed the admission would make me. “Inside the Locked Tomb is the corpse of a girl.”

I explained further before she could ask. “Nav, when I saw her face I decided I wanted to live. I decided to live forever just in case she ever woke up.”

I thought about that day. All those years ago, and how that girl had been the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I was mesmerized by her. By what looking at her stirred within me. But as I let myself steal a glance at Gideon now...the spitting image of that girl. Her face paint is gone...vanished by our time in the water. And she is laid bare before me...just as the girl in the tomb was all those years ago. It had been my destiny then. My reason to live. Just as she is my destiny now. My reason for everything. And I will not let this horror end with her being the next rotting corpse who dies at my feet. Not Gideon. My Griddle. My love.

I knew my emotions got the best of me, that I was crying. But Gideon let me as we waded in silence. Eventually, we both climbed out of the water, but sat side by side and let the water drip off of us. It had cleansed us somehow.

Or perhaps the truth had truly set us free. I know I felt free. Freer than I ever had. Freer than I never thought I deserved.

I felt Gideon close the distance between us and froze as to not scare her off. I wanted this. Whatever Gideon was willing to give. I wanted it more than I ever allowed herself to admit or imagine. With wide eyes and shallow breathing, I watched Gideon.

“One last question for you, Reverend Daughter.”

I attempted to use my voice, but it was embarrassingly unsteady. “Nav?”

I used the surname to distance myself. To try to calm my rapidly beating heart. I closed her eyes as Gideon leaned in.

“ _ Do you really have the hots for some chilly weirdo in a coffin?” _

As Gideon landed back in the pool unceremoniously, I found herself answering even though Gideon was coughing up water and couldn’t hear me.

“Yes. I do.”  _ You fucking idiot. _

That night, Gideon seemed just as content as I was to stay nearby each other. I didn’t comment as she moved her blankets to her previously unoccupied cavalier bed at the foot of my own. It pleased me, though I am loathe to admit how her acceptance of me has made me lighter. She talked easily in the dark. I let her ramble on in nonsense, not that I could have stopped her if I wanted to. She seemed intent on hearing her own voice. Or maybe she didn’t want to hear mine.

I decided to test that theory with my own questions. Thoughts that had been multiplying endlessly. Fears really. It seems that even some monsters fear something.

“Had I let you go, ages ago...the first time you tried to escape me. What...what did you plan to do?” I licked my lips and searched for the correct words. “If you could have done anything, what was it you wanted?”

The silence was deafening. It frightened me; I thought that perhaps I had overstepped. Then I heard it, Gideon shift in bed, and somehow, even in the dark, I felt those yellow eyes on me.

“It never really got that far. I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Only what I didn’t want.”

_ Me.  _ Or the entire Ninth House. Mostly me, probably.

“I didn’t want to be a nobody. I was sick of being disposable. Of being nothing.” Gideon continued as she let out a puff of breath. “I thought if I escaped that I could be someone. Anyone. I knew I was good with a sword, and I hoped I could find something with that.”

My heart broke for her. Well, whatever I had that resembled one. I opened her mouth to say something, to let Gideon know that she was never a nobody. As much as I spent my life trying to make her think otherwise, she was never nothing. But Gideon didn’t want my pity or my affection, it seemed. Because she spoke before I could.

“Mostly though, I think I just wanted to get laid.” 

I would have thrown my pillow at her--had it been heavier and made of stone. 

“I hate you.” I muttered instead.

Gideon laughed out loud. “That’s the first time that I don’t actually believe you mean it.”

I allowed my smile to be swallowed by the dark. 

“I was mad at you...before...when I told you I never stopped hating you. I don’t even know when it happened. Or how. But...I don’t. Anymore. Just for the record.” Gideon told me quietly and then laid more fully on her bed. “Hate you, I mean.”

I studied her, or at least what I could see of her form in the blackness of night. It was comforting; the silence this time. I intended to enjoy it. 

“Did you try to kill me, back on the Ninth?”

Gideon’s question frightened me. Why did we keep going around in circles? Why couldn’t Gideon just let it all go? Why did I even expect anything less than doubt and fear on Gideon’s behalf?

“The shuttle. The one Glaurica stole.” Gideon clarified and I finally caught up to her thoughts.

“What? No. If you’d gotten on that shuttle, you’d have made it safe to Trentham. I swear by the Tomb.”

I swear on your life, and mine. I wanted to say it. Because it was the truth. Had things gone differently, I would have been alone. Completely. But Gideon would be safe.

We continued speaking a bit more until I had had enough for the night. Possibly for a lifetime.

“ _ Go to sleep,  _ Gideon _. _ ” 

I said in a tone reserved for someone particularly special. Someone who might have been mine. Had our lives turned out differently.

  
  


xxxxx

  
  


_ Oh, it's funny how _

_ The warning signs can feel like they're butterflies _

_ Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper _

_ I won't stop 'til I get where you are _

_ I keep running when both my feet hurt _

_ I won't stop 'til I get where you are _

_ Oh, when you go down all your darkest roads _

_ I would've followed all the way to the graveyard _

xxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Title for the Halsey song as are the lyrics used throughout. This will likely be 3 or 4 chapters.


End file.
